


Nodus Tollens

by GuyOfShy



Series: Locked Tomb fics [2]
Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Canon Compliant, Discord: The People's Tomb (Locked Tomb Trilogy), F/F, Lucid Dreaming, Spoilers, The People's Tomb Fic Jam: Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuyOfShy/pseuds/GuyOfShy
Summary: One flesh, one end.In these words Harrowhark found herself consumed by nothingness. A black hole. Void of feeling anything other than empty, in the deepest depths of which she dreamed of meaning.GtN spoilers.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Series: Locked Tomb fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937449
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Nodus Tollens

Before waking elsewhere, Harrowhark Nonagesimus dreamed of nothing for a very long time.

She saw ivy reclaiming the cracked and crumbling walls of Canaan House, still intact. She chose not to think of the horrors and machinations that tied her fate cruelly in a noose. Something else anchored her here that she did not feel a pressure to acknowledge, because it was familiar. Familial, almost. Something faint, despite its proximity. Her hand was elsewhere, submerged in cold salt water solidifying a promise and a confession. She was damp and distraught, soaked to her bone with a heavy chill, but the hand was warm, because the hand squeezing it burned even underwater, the glow shimmering under her tearful eyes and the meeting of their lips.

The water slipped away down a drain, revealing the tiled floor they were standing in. Gideon Nav’s hand was still running through Harrow's hair as water from the shower ran down their bodies. Their black face paint, tradition of their forebears, washed away like ink through and wrung off a page, a baptism cleansing them of everything but the present: who they were, not to themselves, but to each other. Gideon’s lips moved, but Harrow heard nothing over the roar of the water. Gideon smirked as if she’d responded and continued talking, and Harrow blinked into a greenhouse full of plant life and light, sitting beside her endlessly loyal cavalier and her warm hand, cast back into their shadowy robes.

Harrow doubted the hand was Gideon’s, even as she beheld it, because Gideon was gone and the hand was something that Gideon simply was not: soft. It held Harrow’s smaller, thin fingers comfortably, thumb smoothing over her knuckles, more securely than even the grip of her longsword, her prized two-hander, and Harrow felt the warmth transferring to her chest, exactly opposite the soul siphoning she had inflicted on her partner before.

And in that moment, Harrow felt prized for the first time in her life. Like she wanted life. Like she was more prized than two hundred lives or that two-hander that Gideon prized more than anything. And she felt honored to know Gideon and be here with her, first and finest flower of her House, for however long this would last.

Maybe Harrow was dead, their fates forever bound together, sealed within a single grave. She wouldn’t have preferred it any other way. But if she were dead and not dreaming she would be able to hear Gideon; not the silence of the black-budded blooms and amber light, that allowed said flowers to thrive, filling the space around them. Harrow basked in the warmth, truly not caring whether or not she woke. This sublime scenario was likely preferable to wherever she was now, because wherever she was now was without Gideon. Gideon, the precious, sole light in Harrow's miserable, wretched life that she did not deserve, but held here in her hand and in her arms and in her heart.

Before waking, Harrow dreamed of things she had lost after only just finding them, Ninth and now no more, of the nothing that was everything.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending tore me absolutely to pathetic shreds. This is my meager attempt at consoling myself and patching my heart together before I begin the second book. Griddlehark for life q.q
> 
> (I want to write so much more but I'm out of ideas and honestly just depressed lol)


End file.
